Before All Was Well
by ciaosushi
Summary: Harry's new life begins with the Wizarding World in shambles - He and his friends must rebuild it into the place it always should have been. Picking up where Deathly Hallows left off, this story attempts to include all of the new facts JKR has released.
1. Compelled to begin again

**Before All Is Well**

_Preliminary note: I haven't read too many fanfictions in which everything Jo Rowling has confirmed following book seven has been included and kept accurate. And I've read virtually nothing that also attempts to continue the series in the same tense, point of view and genre. I am intensely interested in what happens next, but as there will be no book eight, I decided to make it up in a style as close as I can get it to JKR's. Obviously this is unachievable, but I thought I'd try. I may never finish._

_In order to attain close to perfect accuracy, I have created a timeline that goes from 1998, the year of the final battle, all the way up to the epilogue that probably occurs in 2017. I dated it with help from the Harry Potter Lexicon. If anyone is interested in seeing the timeline, let me know in a review or pm me and I'll send it to you. It should have every single fact she has mentioned since book seven about the futures of all the characters. I think it's pretty cool._

_This is a version of the first chapter that is unbeta'd and hardly edited (hence ahem some grammatical errors). I am posting the story in its slightly earthy form in attempt to get some early feedback, which is where I would appreciate your help. Later, I would like to post the completed story on my livejournal account (faithindraco). It will hopefully have a different title – I really hate this one – and will have more of a story arc._

_I have no idea if I will finish this, but it sounds like I'll have fun writing it and maybe someone else will have fun reading it. ;D_

**Compelled to begin again**

When Harry woke, it was dark again. He stared at the red curtain above him, and just breathed deeply.

It wasn't one of those moments where so much had happened that he didn't remember at first. He was surprised to have it all still clear, still sharp in his mind, as if he hadn't slept at all; every event, every detail. Every death. Especially the one he had deliberately caused.

He sat up immediately at that thought and straightened his glasses (he had gone to bed with them still on). He pulled back the curtain of his four-poster and glanced at the half-finished sandwich on his bedside table. The sight made his heart ache, despite Kreacher's wellbeing. The bread would be dry by now, too dry to eat.

Then he thought about what had happened for several minutes. He knew it wasn't much longer he could put off the grief, the despair he would surely sink in to soon enough. Harry had had too much experience with losing people.

And yet this was a different kind of loss. This was a loss for a gain. A very, very monumental gain for which the lives he grieved for were given.

Shouldn't he be celebrating? Shouldn't he be leaping for joy?

After all, he had done it. They had won, and Voldemort was dead.

That was a truly frightening thought. Everything he had ever done in his life had lead up to that moment of victory, and now that his task was complete, his purpose accomplished, he had no clue what would come next. He had always, deep down, assumed the task would take his life. He had given no thought to life beyond, life _after _war and after death. Did that make him noble? No – just ignorant.

But there was still so much to do, he realized. And that was a comforting thought even though it probably shouldn't have been. There was still so much to clean up, so much to close… to resolve…

Surviving Death Eaters had to be tried and imprisoned. The Ministry was in ruin and needed serious restructure. And not least of all, the school was a complete wreck. Harry shuddered to think of giant spiders still lurking around undead. He laughed a little, though, to think of Ron's reaction to that idea.

_Ron. _Ron and Hermione. Harry was ashamed that he hadn't thought of them earlier. He pulled back the curtain more until there was a gap large enough to see Ron's bed. Ron's face, head turned and drooling, was just visible, as his curtain wasn't fully closed.

Harry decided it would be cruel to wake him just yet, so he got up to check on Hermione.

She was asleep as well, curled up in Neville's covers (he had offered his bed to her), but she stirred when he sighed too loudly.

"Harry? Is that you?" she said with one eye open, instantly alert. She was such a light sleeper.

"Yeah, sorry for waking you up," he whispered, making to leave the room.

"No, it's alright. I ought to get up anyway. Ron asleep?"

"Yes. I don't want to wake him yet though."

In the look that passed between them, Harry recognized that she was thinking the same thing he was.

Perhaps to brush aside the moment, Hermione said rather huffily, "Good God, how long were we asleep?"

"I dunno what time it is. It's dark again, though, so probably a long time."

"You're filthy," she observed, now out of bed and standing before him in her pajamas.

"You're not exactly pristine yourself," he said, noting her outrageously wild hair.

She reached to pat it down to no avail.

"We should clean up before we wake him," she said, returning to seriousness.

"Okay."

Hermione trotted off to the girl's dormitories, leaving Harry to a bath and his thoughts. It was painful to be alone now, without distraction.

The seventh year boy's dormitory had been left empty, save for the three of them. It seemed the others had stayed away for the night, as a mark of respect. Harry wasn't sure what to think of that. It was an almost foreboding feeling, something that hadn't occurred to him yet: how he would be treated now, following all that had happened.

After he had bathed and met up with a much more presentable Hermione, they tentatively woke up Ron.

"Wh- what?" he grunted, at Hermione's touch.

"Ron, it's really late. Want to get something to eat?" said Hermione gently.

He stared at her for a minute, expression foggy through slit-ed eyes, and then he turned to look at Harry. A lot seemed to pass through his mind.

"Just let me take bath," he said.

The moment the three of them entered the common room, all dressed in fresh robes (Harry had decided never to wear those ones again), the people milling around froze and silenced. He recognized none of them, all younger students and some parents.

It was almost a procession as Harry, Ron and Hermione crossed to the portrait hole. He had been stared at before, but this was different. People were looking at them in _wonder. _Like they were each some kind of God. Harry was glad he wasn't experiencing it alone this time.

"It was like this when I went to my dormitory earlier," Hermione said in a low voice to them.

"They're staring at me, too!" Ron whispered back, awed.

Just as they were about to leave, a voice called out to them.

"Guys, wait!"

It was Neville, walking directly toward them normally, no big deal. Harry felt extremely relieved.

"Going down to breakfast, too?" he said, like it was any other day. This was the person they needed now, Harry realized. Someone they could relax around.

"Breakfast?" asked Hermione.

"Or dinner. Whatever it is. It's nearly nine, we can go down together."

"Alright," said Harry.

Once again an impenetrable silence stole through the room as they entered the Great Hall. Harry wished that Fred were there to crack some joke and break the ice. His chest went cold when he saw George sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, staring at his empty plate.

They walked to him quickly, every eye following.

"Harry, this is really horrible, how did you deal with it?" joked Hermione weakly. But she hastily stopped chuckling at the sight of Colin Creevey's body, still lying there between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. It seemed a team of heavily built men were bringing all of the bodies across the border and apparating them to their respective homes. Colin's hadn't been moved yet.

It occurred to Harry as they all sat down across from George that perhaps the silence had been there before their arrival – nobody seemed to have anything to say. It wasn't necessarily that everyone was too sad to speak. So much had happened, and no one had yet digested it all. Harry could tell that people were torn like he was. They were happy, they were sad, but they were mostly relieved.

Slowly, as more people entered (and not all were students), conversations began to spring up at a few of the tables. However, silence remained at theirs, even after food had appeared on their plates. They just focused on eating. Harry was suddenly ravenous.

"Where're Mum and Dad?" Ron asked George hesitantly.

"And Ginny?" put in Harry with turkey still in his mouth, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

George paused to finish his potato. "Not sure. But I think they're all together somewhere." They didn't ask why he wasn't with them.

"Not Charlie though. Charlie's helping move the bodies," George added, an even more sullen note in his voice. Harry didn't know what to think.

Ron choked a bit on his turkey, but Harry guessed it wasn't because it had gotten stuck in his throat. Hermione found his hand and squeezed it. Harry returned the pressure, understanding that they were in the same boat: A part of the Weasley family, but not in their grief. Not in the same kind of grief, anyway.

Neville was looking awkward and sad as well, but then Luna arrived and Harry knew they were saved.

"Hello," she said vaguely, sitting next to George who before had been alone on his side. She gave no mention to the fact that she was the only Ravenclaw to sit at their table. "How is everyone?"

Surprisingly, Harry found this question acceptable, and it seemed so did everyone else.

"Alright, you know," said Ron, with a ghost of a smile.

More people began to join them, and many of them non-Gryffindors, perhaps inspired by Luna's boldness. The barrier of the Houses had broken, at least for now. Harry even spotted a Slytherin sitting a little ways down.

Then the breath got knocked out of him as a familiar figure approached. "_Ginny_," he said somewhat raggedly.

She looked exhausted, eyes puffy and red, hair strewn around. Harry felt a lump rise in his throat at the sight of her, and hastened to swallow it back down.

"Hi," she said to everyone.

"Where're Mum and Dad?" said Ron immediately, standing up.

"On the Quidditch pitch with the others."

She put a hand on George's shoulder for a moment as he rose with Ron. They left together, Ron muttering a hasty, "See you later."

Ginny walked around the table and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Will you come with me?" she said quietly.

He looked at Hermione, who nodded slightly, and left with Ginny.

As soon as they passed into the Entrance Hall, Harry asked, "Did you eat? Did you sleep any?" He regretted it immediately and couldn't help feeling extremely awkward. They had hardly seen each other since before the battle, and had barely had a conversation since before… since before everything.

"A little. I've been with Mum, mostly."

Harry nodded jerkily. He couldn't bring himself to ask how Mrs. Weasley was. Why did he feel so out of place? Why couldn't he just feel normal?

"Have you… had any contact with anyone? What are they all doing?"

"Kingsley's been running everything with a small group of people. They've been moving the bodies."

"And Snape's. What have they done with his?"

"He's been moved as well."

Harry nodded his appreciation at this, and they walked out onto the grounds in silence. The night air was pleasant and cool on his face.

After a minute, she said, "Why don't we sit here?" They were at the tree by the lake, where they had spent many happy hours in his sixth year. It was also where he had told her he had to go on alone.

They sat together at the edge of the lake, water grazing his trainers a little.

She turned to him, and he just barely brought himself to meet her eyes. She said, "I didn't have anything in particular to say, I just… I just wanted to see you. Ask you how you were."

"I'm fine," he said automatically.

"No you're not."

"I know I'm not. But I don't know what I'm feeling."

"You're confused and sad, like me."

"I think that's how I'd describe it."

They turned away again, Harry looking out to the Forbidden Forest, and its unnatural quiet. Harry was starkly reminded how he'd sat here after Sirius had died, and how it had calmed him and at the same time helped him let out his emotions. He decided right there that he would always tell Ginny everything he was feeling and thinking, from then on.

"I'm just lost. I don't know what's going to happen next. I can't deal with the constant clash of finally having it over with and having lost so much in the process," he stopped to clear his throat, but the tears came anyway. "I don't know how I'm going to face everyone, and I have _no clue _what they'll expect from me."

"No one's expecting anything, Harry."

"But they _are. _You know they are."

"I'm not. Ron and Hermione aren't. Who cares what the rest of the world thinks and wants from you, you hardly did before."

"I know that. I know. It's just… It's just hard, having so much to miss and nothing conceivable to look forward to. With Dumbledore and Sirius I had a plan of action already prepared to avenge them and I followed through with it. I dealt with their deaths with _action_. And now… I don't know how to deal with this when there's no path laid ahead of me."

Ginny was crying a little now, too. "I understand," she turned to him, "I understand perfectly."

He felt compelled to reach out to her, but she got there first. Her arms came around his chest and she leaned against him. He felt something like a protector, something like possessiveness, as he put his arm around her back and stroked her hair.

They didn't speak again for a while. It may have been close to half an hour, Harry wasn't sure.

"We should go back in," she said eventually.

"Yeah."

They got up, detaching themselves from one another, and began their walk back up to the castle.

Just before they pushed open the front door, Ginny said, "It's going to be okay. You know that, right?"

"I know it," he said, and was surprised to find he even believed it.


	2. Sorting it out

**Sorting it out**

A lot more people had entered the Great Hall during Harry and Ginny's absence, despite the lateness of the hour. The talk was louder and sounded more pleasant than before. The thought cheered Harry as they went to sit with Hermione, Neville and Luna again.

But his mood shifted forebodingly when Hermione said, "Do you hear that rustling?"

Harry knew what it was – they had heard it every morning for the past six years at Hogwarts. It had been a while, though, since the sound had last graced their ears.

"It's the owls delivering the Evening Prophet!" announced Neville, who had gotten there before Hermione had. "They must know this is when everyone's awake."

"Oh no," she said, and it was clear in her expression that she was thinking the same thing as Harry.

Sure enough, the first thing Harry saw when the owl nearest approached was the emboldened letters: "**HARRY POTTER AVADA KEDAVRAS DARK LORD"**

"Give me that," said Hermione in an orderly tone to a nearby fourth year, who looked a bit incredulous at this, but handed her his paper out of respect.

She read aloud.

"The Chosen One lives up to his name and is once again the savior of the Wizarding World. You-Know-Who has been vanquished – the war is over. Over 50 die in a great battle at Hogwarts School lead by Harry Potter. All the details exactly as they were, with quotes from those who were there, by Rita Skeeter," Hermione paused to scoff, "Says Ernie Macmillan, Potter's fellow seventh year and a witness, 'All I saw was a flash of green light and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was on the ground, clearly dead.' It doesn't take much for this reporter to fill in the gaps. Apparently the two were circling each other, talking about the power of wands and You-Know-Who's past mistakes. Undoubtedly Potter won the argument with the use of the worst Unforgiveable curse. Whether Potter will be tried for this crime, is yet to be seen.

"The battle began on May 1st sometime before nightfall, when You-Know-Who announced to the entire grounds: 'Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed.' As Potter was nowhere to be seen for the next few hours, it can only be assumed that he acted on cowardice and fled, forcing the entire school to prepare for battle in his absence. Trolls, giants, acromantulas, chimaeras and even a dragon are claimed to have been present for the epic fight between the Death Eaters (known followers of the Dark Lord) and the adults and seventh years of Hogwarts. Which side these creatures were on is not yet confirmed.

"Even more strangely, fighting in Potter's stead were more than the teachers and students of Hogwarts. People such as Remus Lupin the known werewolf, Arthur Weasley, who is on the tracked list of the workers at the ministry, Nymphadora Tonks (auror) and even some as high esteemed as Kingsley Shacklebolt (rumored to be the next Minister of Magic, see page 3) somehow heard of the coming battle and apparated in time to participate. The questions remaining are many: How and why did so many adults known to be affiliated with the late Albus Dumbledore come to fight? How did they learn of the battle in time, when security at Hogwarts is currently so strict? And how did they enter the grounds undetected? Answers will hopefully be appearing from those in question within the next few days, as many on the outside are desperate for information.

"Potter returned later, far past midnight, after many had already lost their lives for him (for a full list of the deceased, turn to page 4) to finish the job he had delayed. Fortunately the killing ended at last early May 2nd, just as the sun rose, said many eyewitnesses. Upon the death of You-Know-Who, which occurred in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the students and teachers still alive pressed upon Potter and cheered for the end of the terror that has reigned for so many months (for more complete identification on just what has gone wrong in the Wizarding community, see page 2).

"Trials of captured Death Eaters to begin next month, etc. etc. etc." finished Hermione, who had clearly grown bored with the article.

"Don't worry, Harry. People will know it's complete hogwash. No one will believe it," said Neville firmly, though he seemed worried.

"Harry, it doesn't matter," said Ginny earnestly, who seemed to be taking a different approach in comforting him.

"I know it doesn't," he said, and he meant it. At this point, he really didn't care what people thought of him anymore. That part of his life was over, when he was in the papers all the time and constantly upset about his public appearance. It had caused him too much stress, and it was a burden he didn't need now. They could think him evil, a psycho, worst of all a coward, and it meant nothing.

Hermione cut across his thoughts rather violently. "It does matter!" she said in a fierce and loud voice that gained attention from everyone around her. "Of course it does. The public needs the truth. How can you let it go back to the way it was by saying, 'it doesn't matter'? Aren't we past that point? More lies from the Daily Prophet and that dreadful Skeeter woman aren't what the world needs right now! Now that Voldemort is gone and dead, we can't go back to the way things were. We just can't, and saying 'It doesn't matter' in that passive tone isn't help things, Harry. We have a lot to do to fix this world, and I know you have to be a part of it."

Ginny looked ashamed and Harry felt it.

"I want to be a part of it," he said, and felt an approving hand on his back.

"Well said, mate."

Ron had returned, and though he was addressing Harry, he was looking at Hermione with tenderness. He seemed worn and had fresh red circles under his eyes, but mostly okay. Harry could see the rest of the Weasley family standing behind him, in similar states.

"Well said Hermione," repeated a slow, deep voice that belonged to Kingsley. Many murmured assent. "That is exactly the attitude and sentiment we need right now."

Everyone around the table looked inspired and determined – Hermione really did have some kind of talent.

"Harry, I'd like you to come up to the front with me, some of the teachers and I are going to address everyone. Ron and Hermione, if you would join us as well."

They agreed and followed him to the staff table, where Harry had never gone very near before. It felt strange to face everyone like that; the Great Hall was positively jam-packed. They all silenced immediately upon seeing the group at the front, which included McGonagall, Slughorn, Ron's dad, Bill, and the rest of the staff. Harry thought of Dumbledore, addressing the school at the beginning and end of each year.

"Obviously we've all faced a lot in the past day and a half," began Kingsley, "I know many of you will be feeling conflicting emotions: Sadness, happiness, relief, confusion… And I want you to know that nothing is expected from any of you, in terms of grief, social activities, where you stay for the rest of the year, and especially whether or not you choose to take part in the projects I am about to announce.

"It is true that I am to take up the post of Minister of Magic." Applause instantly reared up, which he silenced with a hand, "but before I leave here to officially take my place, we have a few things to take care of.

"Professor McGonagall, as the new headmistress, has informed me that the school is intended to reopen come September. It needs a lot of work, however, before that can happen. And we need your help. The rebuilding process will likely take a few years, though we expect to get the necessary pieces of the building back in place and have it all cleaned for the new students.

"I ask for your help, if you feel up to it. We need everyone we can get. Minerva has agreed that the rest of the school year will be canceled, though anyone is welcome to continue staying at the castle until the regular date of dismissal in June. Perhaps the work will help a few of you get past what you have been through. I know it will be a satisfying experience, and one that requires focus. Let us not return to the way things were, but makes things the way we believe they should now be."

He finished there and everyone applauded for the future minister.

"Come up and see me in a minute if you are interested in participating," added Kingsley. Then he turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I want you three to be involved in leading the process, as I know you to be leaders in the eyes of these people," they all nodded vigorously, for Harry was eager to start working. "But I only need you for a month before they can carry on on their own, at which point you may join the ministry if you choose."

Ron turned to Harry, eyes wide in shock and awe. Harry was feeling a bit dizzy himself.

"What did you say?" said Ron.

"I said, you may each join the ministry in a department of your choosing, though I have heard aurorship is the preferred –"

"I don't want to join the ministry," piped up Hermione.

"_What?_" yelped Ron.

"At least, not yet. I want to go back to school and finish my NEWT's. Then I would be glad to."

"You _want _to spend another whole year in school?" said Ron in disbelief.

Hermione glared at him exasperatedly. Harry almost laughed – it was like old times.

"Of course Hermione, and you are welcome to a job as soon as you graduate," said Kingsley before they could start bickering.

Finally Harry spoke. "So… what you're saying is that in just one month, Ron and I can start our Auror training?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying. Now if you two will put your eyes back in your head, I must speak with the students." Indeed many people were now clamoring to get his attention.

"Harry… Am I dreaming?" Ron said in wonder.

"I dunno. I think I might be."

"And we don't even have to take our NEWT's!"

Ron punched the air in celebration; it was the happiest Harry had seen him in a long while.

"And Hermione can graduate with me," said Ginny out of the blue, having just appeared at her shoulder. Hermione beamed back, but Harry couldn't help but feeling a little sad that he wouldn't be around her very much next year. Indeed, Ron's face had suddenly drooped into complete sorrow. Ginny and Hermione were totally oblivious, wandering in the other direction and discussing school.

"Let's go back to the dormitory, Harry," said Ron, looking defeated.

After they had reached their room and Ron had plopped onto his bed in misery, Harry said immediately and without pre-empt:

"So, what's the deal with you and Hermione, anyway?"

Ron looked a little dumbstruck at Harry having finally addressed the issue that had been tiptoed around for so many years.

"Um," he began, "I dunno really. We snogged."

"Yeah… And?"

"And what?"

"Have you asked her to go for a coffee or anything? _Something?_"

Ron swallowed. "Er. Um. Not really, no."

Harry shook his head and sat opposite Ron on his four-poster. "I thought you two were done with this meddling about. Don't you like her?"

He looked extremely awkward, but said, "Yes…"

"And doesn't she like you?"

"I… I hope so…"

"So, what's the big deal?"

"You know, it disturbs me that you get all this supreme dating experience from my sister."

Harry laughed, but returned to frankness. "Well, you need to stop all this fooling around. Hermione is practically in love with you, and you can't lie to me, I know you're pretty much obsessed –"

"Hey!" Ron threw a pillow at him, but didn't object any further. It was strange how natural it felt to talk to Ron about a subject that had been tabooed between them for so many years. Yet Ron was Ron, and there was nothing Harry wouldn't tell him now. Well… almost nothing.

"Well seriously, mate. She's going to get angry and send pigeons at you again if you don't do something about it soon. And you know what I mean by 'something.'"

"Again, disturbed."

"Well, you take my point anyway," he said, crossing to climb into his own bed.  
"We should get some sleep. We've had quite a day."

"Nox," said Ron, flicking his wand. When the lights went off, Harry was left to his troubling thoughts.

After all, Harry had just enjoyed a casual chat with some whose brother had died not two days ago. Was he being insensitive? Was Ron upset now? It was all very touchy and uncomfortable.

At least they had gotten around to some action today. Only through activism was Harry ever satisfied. Perhaps tomorrow, when the work started, Harry would stop getting flashes of loved ones dead on the floor and a pair of red eyes closing forever.

He shuddered under his covers at that thought and willed himself not to dream. It didn't work, as usual. In what seemed seconds later, Harry drifted off.

He dreamt he was speaking to a grown up Teddy Lupin, who was calling Harry a bad godfather and demanding he answer questions about Remus in life that Harry could not answer. Then Teddy turned into a werewolf and almost attacked him, but the sound of the door closing woke him up. It must have been Hermione or Neville or someone, Harry didn't check.

He just wished he could get a goodnight's sleep, for once in his life.


	3. The second interview

**The second interview**

Harry awoke the next day with an idea fully formed in his mind. Perhaps it had come to him a bit late, as Hermione's inspiring speech had been hours ago – but only now had Harry thought of the perfect solution.

He shot up in bed and ripped back the curtain. It was daylight, though most likely sometime in the afternoon. He changed quickly and burst into the common room, without checking whether Ron was awake. No one was there; Harry guessed they were probably all at lunch.

His brisk walk took him to the Great Hall in minutes. Taking advantage of the customary silence at his entrance, Harry announced to the room at large:

"Does anyone know where I can find Rita Skeeter?"

"Lovely, just who I was looking for," an acidly sweet voice replied promptly beside him.

It was just like Rita, to be completely out of sight when she wasn't supposed to be around, and then make a miraculous appearance the second her name was mentioned. She looked just the same as ever, though perhaps her lined face was a little more excited than usual. She was wearing stylishly cut robes of shocking pink – they made Harry's eyes water to look directly at them.

"I need you to interview me," said Harry quietly once attention had turned away from him.

"Harry, _what _are you doing?" It was Hermione, looking vehement, with Ron at her shoulder.

"I'm borrowing an idea from you," he answered coolly, and then turned back to Rita. "Only there are a few conditions involved."

"Of course there are," she said unenthusiastically, as if dodging around them was the easiest thing in the world.

"One. You will not add any embellishments or speculation to what I say. Two. You will not interject your opinion in attempt to allude to a certain ridiculous result. Three. Your goal is to report the facts, as I tell them to you, so the public can get the truth, for once." Hermione beamed at this and looked very proud of Harry.

"And how about 'four,' I say nothing insulting about Harry Potter so he is portrayed as the perfect golden boy that he is," said Rita sarcastically.

"Say whatever you want about me. Just stick to the facts of what really went on that night."

"Though you might want to consider, Rita," said Hermione with a triumphant smile, "what the public wants to hear right now. Will the papers sell if Harry looks bad in them? I don't know about you, but I think not."

Rita glared but did not reply to that. "How about my pay?"

"I think we'll stick to the conditions of the last time we had this little venture. Besides, won't the prophet pay you loads for this material?"

Once again, Rita's response was defeated, and Harry looked extremely smug.

"Harry, I have to talk to you first, though. In private," said Hermione furtively. Rita, scowling, walked away for a few minutes to interrogate some poor second year.

"Harry, you can't tell her about the horcruxes," she whispered seriously.

Ron seemed confused. "Why not? I thought we were going to tell them everything!"

"Yeah," agreed Harry.

"And give ideas to future dark lords? You _will _tell the truth, Harry, just not all of it. And we can't let people know about the Elder wand, or else they'll come and try to take it from you!"

"So what you're saying is I should dance around the horcruxes and the hallows?"

"Exactly. Just… name the creatures that were there, how many fighters there really were, just be vague about what you were doing in time you supposedly ran away."

Harry was skeptical, but said, "I'll try." He called Rita back over, who was looking suspiciously at the three of them.

"Shall we?" he said, leading her out into the entrance hall. "I think an abandoned classroom will do."

And so the two of them sat there as Harry hashed out every detail of the night before up to the death of Voldemort. He enjoyed squashing the rumors about the chimaeras and the dragon, though shocked Rita to confirm the presence of giants and acromantulas. He explained, partly truthfully, that he did send a message to the Order of the Phoenix to help fight, as he had known Voldemort was on his way to attack him. The closest Harry came to a lie was when discussing the time before Voldemort was killed. He said that while gathering reinforcements for the battle, Voldemort had cornered him, but Harry managed to escape to the castle to prepare to fight.

Equally vague was Harry's description of Voldemort's death. He simply said that Voldemort's Avada Kedavra curse bounced off of Harry's 'expelliarmus,' which can sometimes happen when two wands have the same core. Rita, who clearly didn't know much about wandlore, seemed to believe him and behaved unexpectedly well; perhaps Hermione's comment about the papers selling resonated more than Rita liked to admit.

In the Great Hall afterwards, Hermione asked him how it went.

"The clever readers will be able to tell what might have really gone on with the wands. We can't prevent that. And I had to lie about my wand being broken."

"I suppose that's the best we could do," she agreed. "Thank you for doing that, Harry."

"Hey, it was all you, really."

Hermione stood for a moment, thinking. "I hope Kingsley doesn't mind if I skip out on the building for today… Do you think he'll mind?"

"Why would you do that?" said Ron sharply.

"I have to bring my parents back from Australia."

Ron melted. "Oh, that's fine. We'll cover for you."

"Thank you," she smiled, and there was a slightly awkward pause during which Ron and Hermione stared at each other. "Well, I suppose I'd better be off…"

But she didn't move and continued to face Ron, somewhat dazedly. Harry rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Well… Goodbye…" he heard Ron say, though he didn't look like he intended to leave anytime soon. Harry was walking away as quickly as he could.

"Ginny!" he said, relieved to find her standing close by.

"Don't turn around if you can help it," she advised, just as bemused as Harry.

But as usually happens when someone tells you not to look, Harry looked anyway. Ron's arms were clutching Hermione's hair to hold her face steady as they kissed desperately.

"Those two…" said Ginny.

"One minute they're having a row, next they're snogging," Harry said, laughing.

Kingsley could be heard in the distance rounding people up to start work.

"We'd better go," said Harry, and then put his arm around her as the walked to the front of the hall.

The next few weeks were difficult, as the funerals had at last begun.

It was like a procession of them, one after another after another. Harry didn't cry at any, nor was he asked to speak. He just kind of stood there and listened to the speeches and the wails of the varying sizes of crowds and endured the thank yous from the victims' families. Harry simply could not understand why these people kept shaking his hand, thanking him for being the cause of their loved one's death. It was torture, but he wasn't going to argue when these people were so grieved.

When Harry went to bed each night after a funeral, he lay awake thinking about how that person had died for his cause… How that person had probably thought of Harry as some kind of hero, someone worth fighting for, a leader…

The worst part of this was knowing that it had all occurred by chance. It could just have easily been Neville. Neville would probably have accomplished the same thing Harry had if given the chance. And people were crediting Harry for being this spectacular person whose only real feat was having been extremely lucky at a number of opportune moments. It was maddening. He could only hope that people's fascination would die down after a couple of years.

Tonks and Lupin's joint funeral was an awful experience. To his right sat Andromeda, cradling Teddy and staring, ghost-like, at the two coffins before her. It was impossible not to glance over at her every so often, knowing what she had been through and how much she had lost. He also had to wonder what was expected of him, as Godfather.

But the funeral that hit Harry the hardest was Fred's. It was the first time he had had a proper conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and it nearly broke him to see his closest mother figure bending over and sobbing, with her husband patting her with a shaking hand. They too thanked Harry and said they didn't blame him. Harry was as gracious as he could be, though quickly turned away to take a few heaving, shaking breaths. He wasn't going to break down. Not here, not now.

And then, for inexplicable reasons, he thought of someone. Someone he hadn't much thought of who perhaps was the person deserving the most thought in the world. Harry was ashamed of himself, as he knew there was always one painted by magic automatically. Surely every time one died…

He strode away from the service after it had ended, signaling to Hermione as he went.

"What?" she whispered, walking with him.

"There's something I have to take care of. Something I just realized I have to do."

"Do you need me to come with you?"  
"No, no. Stay here, be with Ron and his family."

She nodded and turned back around. Harry continued his purposeful walk up to the castle.

He noticed how decrepit the place really was as he took a familiar path through the corridors. The walls were all bashed in, piles of rock and dust everywhere. It was going to take ages to completely fix it, even with magic.

Harry stopped walking and pushed open the door before him, one he had rarely entered without permission.

It felt as though he hadn't been inside Dumbledore's office for years, though technically he had only been there a few weeks before. He already felt so much older, so much more tired.

One quick glance around the room confirmed his suspicions. The only question was how to remedy the situation. Who could he talk to? The minister? The headmaster?

Almost as if in answer to this question, the door opened behind him to reveal Professor McGonagall. Of course, this was her office now.

"Ah, Potter," she said wisely, seeming to know why he was there.

"Where is the portrait of –"

"Severus Snape, I gather? Why am I not surprised."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be. Why is his portrait not up?"

McGonagall smiled sadly at him. "It was not the wish of most of the school governors to proudly display a picture of someone so heartily… _disliked._"

"Professor, surely you know of what he did. What this man sacrificed."

"I heard a few scraps of details, when you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were circling each other so menacingly."

Harry slapped his hand to his forehead.  
"I can't believe I didn't do this before… I can't believe I missed it… Sorry Professor, I have to go do something to fix this. I need to change all of their opinions. And I think I know what, I just have to catch her."

And Harry bolted out of the room, leaving a slightly mystified McGonagall behind him.


	4. A real transition

_A/N: The end of this one marks a new chapter for Harry and the others. This is the end of his previous life, really, so from here on out the story will be different and much less predictable as he is now an adult. Maybe I'll even throw in a couple of unexpected plotlines and devices, yeah?_

**A real transition**

Harry found Rita Skeeter staking out the hospital wing.

"Thank God you're still here!" he choked, panting and clutching a stitch in his side.

She raised an eyebrow. "I've hardly left in weeks. What now?"

"I need to add another part to the interview, and I need it to be published immediately."

"You said you already told me everything."

He paused to take a large gasp of air. "Severus Snape," he said significantly, and Rita asked no more questions.

"In here."

Harry hated spending so much time with the wretched woman, but there was no other way to ensure that everyone would know. Even though he was already dead, Harry wasn't going to let Snape die with everyone believing him an enemy. It wasn't fair, after all he had done. Despite Harry's personal feelings, he now had a respect and a kind of awe for his former professor.

This admiration had come less reluctantly than Harry would have guessed. At the time, he had been more worried that he was about to die rather than taking in that Snape had had a legitimate motive for despising him all these years. Even after miraculously surviving, there had been more pressing issues.

Only when Harry had first said the words to Voldemort, "he loved her for nearly all of his life," was he able to believe it himself.

Really, it made sense. Harry had lain awake for some nights already going over it in his head. He couldn't believe how he hadn't noticed that Snape had never mentioned his mother to him, ever.

Harry's grudge for the man had been so ingrained for seven years that admitting it may have been misplaced was difficult. Snape wasn't exactly a good person and had never treated Harry well, but he certainly was a hero in Harry's eyes. And because he could never truly speak to his former potions professor again, he had to pay him back another way.

Rita was enraptured by Harry's description of Snape as a spy for Dumbledore. The interview lasted even longer than the first had. Harry was as complementary as it was possible to be about Snape, and begged Rita not to throw in the occasional snide comment.

The next day at the breakfast table, the headline was revealed to be "**UNLOVED PROFESSOR SEVERUS SNAPE A TRAGIC HERO, POTTER REVEALS."**

Harry rolled his eyes and didn't read it.

Hermione, however, read it thoroughly.

"Wow, Harry, they portrayed him nearly as favorably as they did you!"

Harry, who hadn't read the previous articles on himself, shrugged.

"Wait, hold on," she said, suddenly a serious tone to her voice. "There's a piece at the bottom about Snape's portrait being put up in the headmaster's office. The governors have approved it."

"Good," said Harry, making to rise from the table. "That was all I wanted. I'm going to go and visit him now."

"Harry, what the hell are you going to say to him?" said Ron incredulously, "Sorry about you dying now that I know you fancied my mother?"

"I'm not sure. But something."

A few minutes later, Harry was witnessing the uncovering of the portrait, which was placed in a far, shadowy corner of the office.

"Why is it over here? Why isn't it near the front of the room?" Harry demanded of the ministry man who was peeling off the red cloth.

"I… I don't know…" he said, dumbstruck.

"Because I requested for it to remain here," a low and deadly voice replied.  
At the moment of Severus Snape's speaking, the man from the ministry darted from the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"I wish you hadn't come," said Snape, glowering down at Harry.

"Well, I'm here."

There were a few seconds ringing silence, as Harry thought of what to say.

"I told everyone which side you were really on."

Snape nodded grudgingly.

"There's an article about you in the Prophet as well."

"I heard the two men who carried my portrait here discussing it. I wasn't aware you were so fond of me."

The tone was snide and mocking, and it instantly angered Harry. "I'm not! I just thought you'd be grateful for some recognition!"

"_Recognition?_ I don't need recognition. I know why I did it, I know why I went through it all, I need nothing else."

Harry froze as he realized that Snape was mentioning Lily for the first time in front of him. Snape evidently realized it as well, as he cleared his throat loudly and looked a little embarrassed.

"I just…" began Harry, cooling off now. "I just wanted to let you know. I'm incredibly grateful for everything you've done for keeping me alive, even if it was never for my own sake."

Snape looked on the edge of a retort, but said nothing.

"I will make sure you are remembered in the history books," Harry added defiantly.

Snape's face was curled up in a strange way, as if he was considering something.

"You are more like Lily than I had known," he said in a low, forced voice, not looking at Harry.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, in a last nod to Snape's superiority over him.

And Harry departed the room forever, knowing that he would never look upon that face again.

It pained him that the real Severus Snape, who was now lying in a coffin, would never know that he could have had this conversation with Harry.

A few mornings later, a service was held for Snape. Due to Harry's interview, quite a few showed up. It was the last funeral Harry was to attend. Harry thought a lot about Snape's life during it, and how little joy he had had the chance to experience.

Ginny took his hand at the end and led him aside to the tree by the lake. He stood facing her, worried about the significance of her expression.

"You do know what day it is, don't you?" she said. Harry just looked at her. "It's June second, which means two things. Exactly one year ago we were standing on this very spot after Dumbledore's funeral. And more importantly, we are about to experience a similar parting."

Harry was shocked. "What do you mean, a parting? I'm not going anywhere."

"You're off to become an Auror, aren't you?"

Harry gasped – he had forgotten. "I think, tomorrow, yeah. But I'm not really _leaving_, I mean, _you're_ not going to disappear from my life, right? Is that what you're afraid of?"

"I dunno. I just…" her voice hitched and she turned her shaking back on him. Ginny rarely broke down in front of Harry. He had no idea what to do.

He put a hand on her shoulder tentatively. "Ginny, I'm not… I'm not going anywhere."

"But you are," she said, facing him again, still tearful. Even with tears streaming and red-rimmed eyes, she looked beautiful. "You're an adult now, working at the Ministry, and I'm just a student. When are we ever going to see each other?"

"Be an Auror with me," said Harry somewhat raggedly. He was voicing a thought that had been on his mind for a week now, a thought he was half ashamed of. "I know it's really selfish of me to ask that."

"It's not. But you know it would never work. That isn't what I want to do. I have a whole year of Hogwarts left."

"But Hogwarts doesn't start until September. And after every day of training I'll come back and see you. Will you be at the Burrow?"

"I'm going to stay here, keep helping with rebuilding. I don't know if any of us are ready to go home yet."

"Well, I'll still come and see you."

She smiled sadly. "It isn't about a physical parting, Harry. Don't you think it's weird how you're like this… this all-star wizarding hero and I'm just this silly little schoolgirl? Have you _seen _the articles about you lately?"

"I try not to."

"Well, they love you. You're not going to be able to walk the streets of London without being bombarded. And one day, this pretty girl is going to come along, a big fan of yours, and I'm not going to be _there_…"

"Hold on," said Harry, cottoning on at last. "You think I'm going to forget about you? How could I ever, Ginny… How could you think that?"

"I don't know. It's just how I feel. I'm the girlfriend of a celebrity. There are a lot of pretty girls out there."

He took her hand and summoned up the sloppiest line he could muster. "Why would I want pretty when I have beautiful in you?"

She looked up at him through lowered lashes, a twisted grin on her face.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"I can't either. But it's true."

She paused and looked at him slyly, seeming to judge his truthfulness. "Well, thank you."

"You're welcome," said Harry proudly, as he had just successfully told her she was beautiful for the first time. Another thought occurred to him: "Hermione and Ron will have the same problem, won't they?"

"I suppose they will. I hadn't thought of that," said Ginny.

"Which is why, you, Harry, have just saved me a boatload of trouble with your reasonable arguments." Ron's voice startled them. He and Hermione had clearly been standing there a while and neither Harry nor Ginny had noticed. Harry was now glad that he hadn't acted on his instinct to kiss her.

"Hello you two," said Ginny unenthusiastically.

"Except Ron hasn't told _me_ I'm beautiful," said Hermione pointedly.

Ron fired up immediately. "Wha – Of course I have! I mean, um, that time… At Bill and Fleur's wedding!"

"You just said I 'looked great.'"

"But I – It's implied," he amended weakly.

She took his hand. "It's alright, I forgive you anyway."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and he was sure she was thinking the same thing: Ron and Hermione's relationship was just weird.

"Anyway Harry, we have to discuss Auror stuff," said Ron, with a significant glance toward the two girls.

"Ah, I can see we're not welcome here," said Hermione to Ginny.

"Let's get some food. Talk about things," suggested Ginny. They walked away, Harry glad that Ginny was feeling better.

"She really broken up that you're going away again?" asked Ron gently.

"Yeah, a bit."

"Honestly, I think I'm the one who should be broken up, not Hermione. She's the one who's choosing to stay at Hogwarts another year. I'm just doing what's natural."

"We'll do everything we can to see them, right?"

"Yeah. After every day we'll visit."

"And really, it'll be fun, just us guys again. Like old times."

"Before _women _got involved," Harry scoffed jokingly. "Oh, you wanted to talk to me?"

"Right," Ron became suddenly businesslike in his tone, "We need to sort some things out. Like we'll have to get a flat somewhere in London."

"Grimmauld Place?" suggested Harry.

Ron looked skeptical. "Honestly, I've thought about that and it feels like that was our old home, you know? We going to have a new life now, and I don't want to constantly be thinking about Horcruxes."

"You're right. Well, I'll get a flat then as close to the Ministry as possible."

"_You'll _get a flat?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry, confused.

"At what point did you think I was going to let you pay for the whole thing?"

"I dunno, I just wanted to… to help out," finished Harry feebly. "Do you really have enough money?"

Ron looked sheepish. "Um, no, not really."

"Look, how's this for a deal. I'll loan you for it at first until we start getting paychecks. Then you can pay me back your half."

Ron thought about it, then said, "Yeah, okay."

They looked at each other for a minute.

"This is a real transition, yeah?" said Ron. Harry understood what he meant.

"We're officially adults."

"Weird way of things. We defeat a Dark Lord, then get a job and go about our business."

Ron put it casually, but Harry could tell that he was nervous.

"I've wanted to be an Auror for so long. There's a lot to live up to. And what if I'm not good enough?" Ron said, looking extremely worried.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. Besides, it's just training at first. We won't be getting big assignments for a long time."

Harry comforted Ron, but secretly was at least as worried as he was.

After all, this was it. Harry had wanted this future since fourth year, and now that it was standing right in front of him, actually attainable, Harry wasn't sure what to think.

As Ron had said, this was a huge transition. No longer would the three of them always be together. Harry had relentlessly depended on Hermione, especially when it was just the two of them, and now she would hardly be around for a year. Things were definitely changing, and when Harry lay in his four-poster for what he knew was the last time ever, he marked the moment as the end of his era as the chosen one – the end of his burdens, the end of his selfless struggles, the end of his Hogwarts career. His own future, now, was wide open in a way that it had never been before.

Having a pre-designed destiny was, in a way, comforting. Now without a Dumbledore to guide him and plan his steps, Harry felt – just a little – lost.


End file.
